The academy gates were already far behind them when the carriage finally picked up speed. It did not carry the festive noise of a
tournament departure. There were no banners, no cheering crowds, and no teachers offering dramatic farewells. Only a few distracted students waved half-heartedly before hurrying back toward their classrooms. This was not glory. It was just a meeting.
A gathering of representatives from different academies across the region. There would be discussions, evaluations, and exchanges of information. And Prius Academy, neither the weakest nor the strongest, would likely be ignored.
The carriage itself went unimpeded. The subtle runes carved beneath the frame kept flowing relentlessly. It looked unremarkable, yet Baston could feel the faint hum of enchantment vibrating through the floorboards. It was quite complete with defensive arrays, shock absorption, and perhaps even detection wards.
Alicia sat upright near the window. Her posture was flawless as always. The noble boy occupied the opposite seat with his chin slightly raised and arms folded as if even the air around him needed to be judged before
entering his lungs. Baston sat between stacked crates of provisions and travel
rations. He reached for a plate of snacks and the noble boy's gaze sharpened.
"You're really a glutton," he said coolly, "We've barely left the academy and you're already revealing your true nature."
Baston paused mid-bite, thinking about the noble boy, "What is his problem?"
Before he could reply, something trembled inside his bag. It was a faint and deliberate vibration. It was not from the carriage but it came from the old book. His heartbeat quickened. The pattern was becoming clearer. The old book never acted randomly. It responded to situations, pressure, and encounters.
First quest came when Panto bullied him. Second quest came when Alicia entered his orbit. Third quest came when Angus began to suspect him. Now, a meeting outside the academy walls provoked for the next quest. The timing was too precise to be coincidence. He subtly pressed his palm against the bag. He could sense the order from the old book. Without other choices, he
sneaked a peek.
"Must have a good relationship with your teammate before reaching the destination…"
Looking at the new quest, it seemed there was a time limit. That was new for him but he wasn't ready toward such requirement. Baston resisted the urge to curse. This wasn't about shallow friendliness. Good relationship implied something deeper. Perhaps, it was about trust, respect, and mutual recognition.
Baston glanced at the noble boy. His hunch played along inside his mind. This quest was surely aimed at him. Alicia was neutral ground. Their relationship hovered in a strange space which was curious and watchful but certainly not hostile. It could be said that he had good relationship with her. As for the noble boy? He could sense the pride wrapped in insecurity. And insecurity was the easiest place to dig. He chewed thoughtfully then looked up.
"You eat like livestock," the noble boy continued with colder voice, "You have no restraint and no refinement. You are like a pig at a trough."
There it was, direct and deliberate humiliation. Baston chewed slowly. He could react, argue, and defend himself. Unfortunately, all of those would widen the gap of their relationship. He would just distance himself toward his target. Instead getting angry, he then calmly said.
"Oink…"
The silence loomed. The word was flat and almost casual. He was not angry and not embarrassed. It was acceptance. He told the people around that he indeed was a pig. Alicia's shoulders trembled despite restraining hardly. The noble boy's lips twitched before he suppressed it. Baston observed carefully.
Mockery loses strength when embraced. The noble boy had expected resistance, outrage, and pride. Instead, he received indifference. The tension shifted. It was not gone but altered.
"You're ridiculous," the noble boy muttered.
"Don't you think it's a fact?" Baston replied mildly, reaching for another snack.
This time, the noble boy grabbed one too almost unconsciously. For now, it was not friendship. For now, it was no longer
hostility sharpened into a blade. Inside the bag, the old book pulsed faintly. It was a progress over the quest.
"What's your name?" he asked.
"You're unfit to know it."
"Ah…" Baston nodded thoughtfully. "Just because you're the weakest here, it doesn't mean I don't need to know your name."
The boy stiffened, "You!"
"Are your family strong?" Baston asked casually, redirecting before anger solidified.
The change in direction caught the boy off guard.
"Our family produces knights every generation," he replied automatically, "We are respected in our territory."
"Then why become a wizard?" Baston asked. "Wouldn't that dilute your prestigious influence?"
There was a flicker of hesitation from the noble boy before he answered, "It was my decision."
"Of course it was," Baston said mildly, "You want to prove something, don't you?"
The silence loomed the atmosphere. Baston continued eating. He didn't look at the boy again. Let him filled the gap. If the boy wanted to talk, he would continue by himself. If not, then the matter must be a secret and he didn't want anyone to know about it. Several seconds went by before the noble boy sighed.
"My father has many children," the noble boy said quietly, "They came from different wives. For him, talent determines relevance."
Baston listened without interrupting.
"In noble families…" the boy continued, "Affection is conditional and potential is currency. If you're average, you're tolerated. If you're weak, you're ignored."
Alicia's eyes shifted. She did not deny it. Baston tilted his head.
"I thought nobles could relax. They will have mansions. They rule over their servants. They only need to wait for inheritance."
"You think too simply," the boy said, "Comfort is for heirs but my position must be earned."
Baston nodded slowly then he made his move.
"So you chose wizardry," he said softly, "Because knights are expected but wizards can stand out."
The boy's jaw tightened, "Yes."
There it was. The boy didn't show rebellion and escape. He only wanted to be special, different from any other. He wanted to have his own place among the family and society. Baston smiled faintly.
"So you don't hate me," he said lightly, "You just dislike unpredictability."
The noble boy looked startled, "I…"
"You studied hard," Baston continued calmly, "You followed magic structure and advanced step by step. Then suddenly, I appeared among the students. The boy who had been awakened under Great Wizard Angus. He quickly made a fast growth with no visible foundation. It was like cheating."
The boy didn't deny it. There was indignation, yet it was not hatred. It was important distinction inside his attitude. Alicia observed silently.
"You think I was lucky," Baston said.
"Anyone would," the boy replied.
Alicia interjected gently, "If awakening were that simple, the academy would be full of wizards."
The noble boy frowned, "Yes… That's true."
Baston smiled and reached for another snack. The noble boy immediately grabbed the plate.
"Don't hoard everything," he scoffed, "Lady Alicia hasn't eaten."
"She seems uninterested," Baston replied.
"That's because you're intimidating the food," the boy shot back.
"I'm protecting it."
"You're devouring it."
Their hands clashed over a pastry. For a brief moment, they looked absurd. Alicia almost laughed again. The atmosphere had shifted. They were still not friendly but they also were not hostile. The old book pulsed faintly. There had been a progress toward the quest.
The pulse was subtle like a heartbeat that didn't belong to him. Baston did not take it out again. He didn't need to. The old book had already given him the condition. Now, it only watched. That was the unsettling part.
The book wasn't a mentor. It wasn't even a judge in a normal sense. It was closer to an audience. An invisible presence behind his shoulder, waiting to see whether he would stumble or improvise. It demanded good
relationship but it never defined what good meant. It could be warmth. It could be loyalty. It could even be controlled tolerance. The ambiguity was deliberate. It meant the old book wanted him to choose a method and not follow instructions.
Across from him, the noble boy had loosened his posture. Not much but enough that the angle of his chin wasn't quite as sharp. He had also started reaching for snacks without acting as though it offended his dignity. His small movements told about small concessions. The kind that happened when someone forgot they were supposed to hate you. Baston leaned back, chewing with slow satisfaction as if the entire world was nothing but food and timing. Alicia
watched them both without speaking.
Her expression was calm but her silence wasn't passive. It felt like a test of its own. She didn't interrupt, didn't correct, and didn't
guide. She simply observed and Baston was aware of it. In the academy, Alicia's attention carried weight. People adjusted themselves when she looked their way even if she didn't say a word. Now, in the confined carriage, that attention became sharper and more intimate. It was harder to pretend even though pretending was Baston's most frequent weapon.
The boy cleared his throat, "By the way, you talk too much for someone who claims to be poor status."
Baston raised an eyebrow, "Poor status doesn't mean poor intelligence."
"It usually does," the boy scoffed automatically then paused as if realizing he was falling into an old habit.
The boy glanced at Alicia then back at Baston, and the edge in his voice dulled, "I mean… People like you are not trained to speak in front of nobles."
Baston smiled faintly, "And yet I'm here."
The boy frowned again, "That is precisely what I dislike."
Baston didn't respond immediately. He allowed the silence to stretch just long enough for him to feel it. It was not punishment but just space and boundary. Then, Baston spoke in a quieter tone.
"You dislike that you can't calculate me," he said.
The boy's eyes narrowed, "Don't act like you understand me."
"I don't," Baston replied honestly, "Not yet."
The honesty disarmed slightly. Even Baston felt it as it left his mouth. He hadn't planned to say it that way but perhaps, that was the
point. If this quest wanted good relationship, then authenticity might matter more than manipulation. Perhaps, it demanded the appearance of authenticity. Baston couldn't tell. The old book was cruel like that.
Alicia shifted slightly and the fabric of her sleeve whispering against the cushion, "You're both behaving like kids," she said with calm voice, "But at least, you're behaving."
The boy stiffened, "Lady Alicia, I…"
"You don't need to explain yourself," she continued, "If you're going to attend a meeting representing the academy, you should both understand something."
She turned her gaze toward the window as if watching the road, but Baston could sense she was still speaking to them, "Outside Prius Academy, your personal pride matters less."
The boy hesitated, "We're going to be ignored anyway."
Alicia's eyes flicked toward him, "That is an assumption."
"It's realistic," the boy insisted, "Prius Academy is average. Other academies will bring real heirs, real talents, and real prodigies. We will be decoration at best."
Baston watched the boy's face while he spoke. This wasn't just pessimism. It was defensive preparation. If they were ignored, then the boy wouldn't have to fear being measured and found lacking. It was the same instinct nobles had when they mocked the poor. They would control the narrative
before the world did it for them.
Baston spoke gently, "If we're ignored, isn't that safer?"
The boy stared at him, "Safer?"
"Yes," Baston said, "No attention, no scrutiny, and no jealousy. Isn't that what nobles prefer when they're weak?"
The boy's eyes widened, then narrowed again. "You're calling me weak again."
"No," Baston replied. "I'm calling you careful, just like me."
The word careful hit differently. The boy's mouth opened then closed. He didn't deny it. Instead he grabbed another pastry as if chewing could delay admitting anything.
Alicia's lips curved faintly, "Baston is right. Being ignored can be protection but it can also be a trap."
"A trap?" the boy asked.
Alicia nodded slightly, "When people ignore you, they also stop warning you. They stop explaining and they stop showing their intentions. You become invisible."
The boy looked unsettled, "Invisible sounds better than being targeted."
Alicia's gaze sharpened, "You think targets are chosen at random?"
Silence fell. Baston didn't move. He didn't even blink. He let Alicia's words settle like dust in a sealed room.
The boy swallowed, "What do you mean, Lady Alicia?"
Alicia didn't answer immediately. She looked at Baston and the fat boy understood she was offering him a choice. He could play innocent, could pretend he didn't understand, or could meet her halfway and reveal that he did understand the danger of attention. Baston chose carefully.
He shrugged, "In the academy, things already happened that shouldn't happen."
The boy's brow furrowed, "You mean the cafeteria incident?"
Baston didn't nod or deny. He simply ate another snack.
Alicia continued smoothly as if Baston's evasiveness was an expected part of the conversation, "In gatherings like this, people exchange information, including weaknesses. Politics isn't only for courts. It exists anywhere when power gathers."
The boy looked unconvinced, "But it's just a meeting."
"Meetings are where alliances begin," Alicia replied, "And alliances begin where interests overlap."
Baston watched the boy's expression tightened. He could almost see the boy's mind shifting from competition to survival. Not many noble students thought in survival terms because their safety was inherited. But the noble boy, because of his family structure, understood competition inside
bloodlines. He understood that being irrelevant was dangerous and being
outstanding was dangerous too. The worst thing was being noticed by the wrong person.
Baston leaned forward slightly, "So, you're not angry at me because I'm poor."
The boy glared, "Of course I'm not angry because you're poor."
"Then, because I'm unpredictable," Baston said again.
The boy hesitated.
Baston smiled, "That's fine."
"It's not fine," the boy snapped but it was weaker now, leaving more frustration than contempt, "You… You don't act like someone in your position."
"My position?" Baston asked.
"You have no backing," the boy said, lowering his voice, "No family, no money, no servants, and no protection. Someone like you should be afraid all the time."
Baston stared at him. There was truth inside that insult and it wasn't his cruelty. It was his worldview. Alicia watched Baston, waiting to
see if he would retaliate. However, Baston didn't.
Instead, he smiled faintly and said, "I am afraid."
The boy blinked.
Baston continued with calm tone, "I'm afraid all the time. I just don't show it because showing fear invites people to test it."
The carriage seemed to grow quieter, even the faint rumble of wheels felt distant.
The boy's voice softened without permission, "That's not normal."
Baston shrugged, only giving a faint smile. Indeed, he wasn't normal. He was here for a reason. That reason came from what he held at the moment. The old book pulsed once more then fell silent.